


(Interlude) Sunstreaker - Reassignment

by fuzipenguin



Series: Half Your Age +7 [32]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Multi, Older!Twins, Open Relationships, Other, Twincest, younger!ratchet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22881190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sunstreaker gets a bit of surprisingly good news for once
Relationships: Rung/Sunstreaker, Sideswipe/Sunstreaker
Series: Half Your Age +7 [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1142771
Comments: 28
Kudos: 101





	(Interlude) Sunstreaker - Reassignment

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: Young Ratch verse – laughing

“Thank you for coming, Sunstreaker. At ease.”

Sunstreaker relaxed slightly, although he shook his head at Gasket’s offer to take a seat. Instead, Sunstreaker stood behind one of the two chairs in front of the base commander’s desk and quietly fretted. He knew his face wore an expression of polite interest but internally, he was wracking his processor for what he had done to earn him a meeting with a high ranking Autobot general.

He knew he’d exponentially grown irritated and anxious the longer he had been separated from Sideswipe. But Sunstreaker thought he had done a good job at taking his ire out on ‘cons instead of his fellow soldiers. And Rung had been helping too. The diminutive doctor’s presence was soothing, even though they had somewhat backed off on the interfacing after Sunstreaker’s twitchy freakout the month prior. Instead, Sunstreaker had taken to recharging in Rung’s quarters a few times a week, curled around the smaller bot as if he were a sparkling’s comfort toy.

Sunstreaker would be ashamed, but he needed the rest. He had to be fit, because the thought of dying on a battlefield somewhere without seeing Sideswipe’s stupid smile one last time was abhorrent.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you here,” Gasket commented, settling down into his own chair. He took a stack of data pads and started shuffling through them, obviously looking for one in particular.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Sunstreaker said dryly. Gasket snorted and gave an absent nod. “To my knowledge, I haven’t done anything spectacularly bad. Or good, for that matter.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call your kill counts spectacularly bad. More towards the latter,” Gasket remarked. "They’ve been getting progressively higher lately. Someone kick over your cube of energon or something?”

Sunstreaker idly rotated his left shoulder, a little discomforted. All soldiers reported confirmed kills as well as suspected ones; the tacticians’ needed the information for troop movements. It wasn't if Gasket was specifically looking into Sunstreaker… right?

“No. Just restless,” Sunstreaker replied, voice curt. It was the easiest excuse; no one ever cared enough to hear a grunt’s sob story about the separation from his twin. He was cannon fodder and that’s it.

Skilled cannon fodder, but still cannon fodder nonetheless.

“Ah. Could that have anything to do with the fact that you’re here and your brother… Sideswipe, is it?... your brother is in Iacon, halfway across the planet?" Gasket shoved the majority of the data pads aside and kept two in front of him, one hand resting atop their dark screens. He tilted his head to the side and look inquiringly at Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker’s engine gave a quiet rev, one he couldn’t seem to stifle.

“… maybe.”

“Mm. Your battalion commander has expressed… concerns… regarding your level of aggression these past few weeks,” Gasket said delicately. One of his fingers lightly tapped what Sunstreaker now assumed to be a report of Sunstreaker’s recent performance.

He couldn’t help the resulting sneer. Zephyr had been up Sunstreaker’s tailpipe for months about his battlefield ‘cruelty’. So Sunstreaker wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty; he would occasionally rip out Decepticon sparks with his bare hands instead of shooting them out. He was quick about it and dead was dead, wasn’t it?

“I’ve kept it directed towards the enemy. Sir,” Sunstreaker replied, lifting his gaze to the far wall and struggling to wrangle his expression back towards blankness.

“You have,” Gasket said. “Thank you. I took it upon myself to page back through your disciplinary file. It’s a long one, but your infighting has significantly decreased as the millennia have passed and you’ve gained maturity. Regardless, several different psychologists have marked your file with caution notifications. Seems like they think you’re going to snap at any moment and kill Autobots and Decepticons discriminately.”

Sunstreaker’s lips thinned and he refused to meet Gasket’s optics. “Haven’t yet, sir.”

“… no. You haven’t,” Gasket admitted. “I’m sure that’s partly due to your brother’s influence, however. Twins are far more stable together than apart, aren’t they?”

“Far more,” Sunstreaker gritted out through clenched denta. Something dark and ugly bubbled up from the depths of his spark, where he normally kept things bottled up. “Yet we still keep getting separated… almost as if someone _wants_ one of us to go off the deep end so they can aim us in the ‘cons’ direction and be done with us. Sir.”

It was something that insidiously flitted through Sunstreaker’s mind as day after day passed and he heard nothing about his multiple requests for medical reassignment.

Sunstreaker finally looked at Gasket, gaze accusing. Gasket’s expression hardened, his armor bristling slightly.

“Careful, soldier. We’re fighting in a multi-planet civil war. It’s not all about you.”

“Seems like _something_ is about me, since you called me in here,” Sunstreaker said snidely, rotating his other shoulder. He had to continually deny his battle protocols, insisting to his own body that there was no threats present.

After he left here, he’d have to tear through a good dozen drones to relieve the tension that was building within him. Maybe even convince Rung to indulge in a quick ‘face. Otherwise, his record for infighting was going to get another tick mark.

“Hmpf… so it is. We’re sending a small contingent of medics and SpecOps soldiers to Altihex. I’d like you to tag along as one of four escorts. Should they run into opposition, your… aggression… could be useful,” Gasket said with a twist of his lips. “From Altihex, you’ll continue on to Iacon with the Epsilon detachment, under medical reassignment.”

Sunstreaker stared at the mech in front of him, completely dumbfounded. He was being transferred? He would actually reunite with Sideswipe in just a few short weeks?

“I… thank you. Thank you, sir,” Sunstreaker said. His voice came from far away, almost as if his audials were full of something soft and muffling.

“Don’t thank me. Thank that shrink, Reng. He was the one who thought of killing two turbohawks with one blaster shot,” Gasket remarked.

“Rung,” Sunstreaker corrected automatically. Then he blinked, optics widening in shock. Rung had had a hand in this?

Gasket shrugged, tossing the data pad back into his pile. “Whatever. You leave tomorrow at first light. Pack your things and get a good recharge. You’ll need to be alert; this convey is traveling very close to enemy territory. That is all. Dismissed.”

In a daze, Sunstreaker gave a sloppy salute. He stumbled out of Gasket’s office and came to a standstill just outside the door, wavering in place. This time tomorrow, he’d be leaving this stupid base with its stupid lack of Sideswipe. Finally.

_Finally_.

Spark giving an excited lurch in his chest, Sunstreaker turned to the right and headed off down the corridor at a fast clip. It was away from his barracks, but he had another destination in mind first.

Sunstreaker burst through Rung’s waiting room door just seconds before another mech was about to walk through the entrance to Rung’s actual office. The petite green femme jumped about a foot in the air and hurriedly backed away when she saw Sunstreaker barreling down on her.

“Sorry, just need a second!” Sunstreaker said, rushing past her and slamming the door in her face. When he turned around, Rung was half out of his seat, looking alarmed.

“Sunstreaker, what…?”

Optics suspiciously wet, Sunstreaker flew across the space between them and bodily picked up Rung, hugging him tightly to his chest. He twirled in a circle, a laugh more suited to Sideswipe bubbling up out of his throat as Rung’s feet wildly swung out in an arc.

“Thank you. Thank you, Rung. I can’t ever thank you enough,” Sunstreaker said, finally coming to a stop. He buried his face in Rung’s shoulder, and Rung gently patted Sunstreaker atop his helm.

“I assume you’re referring to your assignment as one of the medical convey guards?” Rung asked.

Sunstreaker wordlessly nodded his head.

“I’m only sorry I couldn’t think of anything else sooner,” Rung murmured, sounding sad.

Rung let out a surprised yelp when Sunstreaker suddenly bent down and placed him back on the floor. When he stood, he placed his hands on Rung’s shoulders and smiled. The expression felt foreign on his face.

“It matters that you thought of me at all,” Sunstreaker said earnestly, and Rung smiled back at him. Very few mechs considered his and Sideswipe’s needs much less their wants. Ratchet had been one of them, and they’d one or two fair commanders, but by and large, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had always been treated like disposable pawns. “You’re coming too, right?”

Rung’s face fell. “…I am not. Iacon already has several psychiatrists whereas this base only has myself. I can do the most good here. But I will miss you greatly, dear boy.”

Sunstreaker’s elation downshifted and he leaned into the palm Rung placed against his cheek. “Damn. I’m gonna miss you too. Now I’m going to have two docs to worry about. At least you’re not one to be on the front lines. You’ll take care of yourself?”

He hated the thought of leaving Rung behind, but this was his chance to see Sideswipe. And Sideswipe always came first.

“Yes, of course. Worry more about yourself, Sunstreaker. And tell Sideswipe hello for me. Now, leave, please. I’m sure you have things to do before you depart and my next appointment is waiting. That is, if you haven’t scared her off, you big thing, you.”

“I’ll fetch her for you if I have to,” Sunstreaker replied, finally releasing Rung. As he slowly walked backwards, he made sure to take several image captures of Rung standing there next to his modest desk. He had no idea when he’d see Rung next. If the inability to keep track of Ratchet was any indication, Sunstreaker wouldn’t be able to keep tabs on Rung either.

“Farewell, Sunstreaker,” Rung said, giving him a reassuring smile and wave.

“Catch you later, Rung,” Sunstreaker replied and vowed that this wasn’t goodbye.

Not again.

  


~ End


End file.
